


After School Special 2- Enter Nazdana

by octoaliencowboy



Series: Dicktiger After School Special [2]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, family reunions uwu, in this house we completely ignore dc canon, more stuff of tigers backstory that i completely made up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-08-20 19:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16561475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octoaliencowboy/pseuds/octoaliencowboy
Summary: Outstanding and unfortunate circumstances bring someone from Tiger's past back into the picture, and Dick helps as best as he can. Will this new development bring them all closer together, or will it only drive them further apart?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> woo hoo hoo and so we advance in the after school special series.......... im excited as fuck yall have no idea  
> buckle up because this is probably gonna be a long one fellas  
> Again all of tigers backstory stuff isn’t actually canon I made it all up and I’m not saying you have to adopt it as canon in your heart but feel free to bc it’s pretty stellar if I do say so myself

Having the same eyes as someone else, be it your parents or grandparents or siblings or anyone, went beyond just having eyes the same shape or size or colour. When someone else notices the same eyes in two people it’s because they can see the same soul lingering behind them. Some people have said there was reason to believe that humans were made of stars, long dead. It’s not known how credible that source was, but perhaps there was more to it than just the science. Perhaps that was what people meant when they talk about souls. Maybe souls are the little pieces of stars inside us. And a shared soul means you and that other person are descended from the same star.

 

A lot of folks in the circus used to say that to Dick-- that a piece of his mother’s soul blazed in his eyes, even if he and his mother’s eyes were different colours. That they came from the same star. Some said that, some others said he was just a mama’s boy. But no matter what the truth was, be it stars or mama’s boy, that was all there ever was. Only a piece. He wondered how much of her was in him now, but there was no one to tell him. It was a strange, intimate thing, sharing a soul. Knowing a part of you would always be carried with someone else, living on, even after you’d gone. Dick was sure his mother’s soul lived on in him to this day. He didn’t need anyone to tell him that.

 

Dick said the same thing to Damian. The teen took after both his parents-- he had Bruce’s build but he undeniably had Talia’s face. It became more and more apparent with every day that the boy grew older, grew up. Looking at the two of them standing side by side now was something else. They had the same cheekbones, the same nose, same eyebrows.

 

And they had the same eyes. The same fire. They came from the same star.

 

One time, he’d told Damian he would break a lot of hearts when he grew up, and Damian had tried to stab him. Tiny, squishy cheeks red from embarrassment disguised as merely anger, coming at him suddenly with a knife they both had known Dick would deflect easily. The attack was more for show anyway. By then they had moved past Damian actually trying to deal fatal blows-- at least not on Dick.

 

It was a good memory.

  
  
  


_Grayson, I need your help,_ was the first thing Dick heard when he answered the phone.

 

He’d made a mad dash across his apartment as soon as he heard the _Totally Spies_ theme song blasting from his phone in the kitchen. He nearly slipped and crashed against the counter as he grabbed it— Alfred had come over earlier and held a proverbial gun to his head and made him clean. The floor was still wet from being mopped.

 

“Well, hello to you too, Tony,” He laughed. “What can I do for ya?”

 

“ _I don’t have time for jokes right now, Grayson,_ ” Tiger hissed through gritted teeth. “ _I already had to swallow enough of my pride just to ask you for help right now._ ”

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Dick said. “What’s going on?”

 

“ _An assassin’s been picking off my agents and the two she’s going after right now are on a delicate assignment in Blüdhaven. Their position can_ **_not_ ** _be compromised. I need you to keep the assassin away from my agents and occupy her until I get there._ ”

 

Dick was already pulling out his costume.

  
  


Tiger sent him the coordinates and Dick waited nearby. Ready to head off the assassin and lead her away from where the agents were stationed. He hadn’t questioned why Tiger had deployed agents to Blüdhaven without letting Dick know about it. There were more urgent things to worry about, but it would definitely be a conversation for another time.

 

He hadn’t been given a lot of details either. Dick wasn’t so happy about going into this essentially blind, but then again, judging from Tiger’s tone of voice this whole situation was a mystery to him, too.

 

Dick almost didn’t spot the figure dancing through the shadows towards the base. Before she could sneak past his own hiding place, he leapt out, putting himself directly in her path.

 

“Hope you don’t mind me dropping in,” Dick said, wielding his escrima sticks with a flourish and a smirk. “But I couldn’t help but notice you were on your way to do something illegal and morally skewed so I just _had_ to say hi.”

 

The assassin didn’t respond. She tensed, she bent her knees a little. Getting ready to either go around or over him. Dick got ready to block her way again. Suddenly the tension in her body snapped and she dove down.

 

Dick cursed as she took a diving roll right between his knees. While she was still low on the roof he did a standing backflip-- a little showy, but effective, and she rose to her feet again, ready to run, only to find Nightwing standing right in her path again as if neither of them had ever moved.

 

“Ah, ah, ah if you want the Spyral agents you’ll have to go through me first.”

 

The assassin stood there for a moment, watching him. She was wearing a hood pulled low. With the moon behind her her, her body was cast in shadow, and he couldn’t make out any of her face. Her dual longswords were curved and robust, razor sharp and deadly and glinting in the moonlight. Even with her face obscured and unable to see her expression, Dick could feel anger rolling off her in waves. The line of her shoulders told she was ready to strike at any moment.

 

This was the kind of person who could cut through a sea of people like an emergency vehicle and everyone would throw themselves to the side so as not to get in her way. The ‘don’t fuck with me’ signals were clear. Luckily for Dick, he was well experienced in swinging bats at hornet’s nests of people.

 

“Move, or I will run you through with my blade,” The assassin said suddenly.

 

Dick’s eyebrows furrowed upon hearing her voice. She sounded young. Too young to be an assassin. He’d met too many kids like that. It sent alarm bells ringing through his head. This was someone who, probably, deep down, just needed help.

 

But this didn’t change the fact that this still was an assassin, and if he didn’t fight her not only would his life would be in danger, but Tiger’s agents would be, too. Fight now, help later.

 

“You’re welcome to try,” He said.

 

The assassin lunged at him, driving her sword forward. Dick rolled to the side, old shingles of the rooftop falling off under him. This was the older part of Bludhaven, where buildings were closer to falling apart than staying intact, and for the most part the people who lived in them couldn't afford to either move or get their home fixed up. It made for a difficult surface to fight on. He slid further down the roof, grabbing at the tiles to stop him from falling off the roof completely. She used the opening to get past him again. The assassin dashed towards her targets. Dick scrambled after her, catching up on the next rooftop.

 

The assassin was skilled. Her dual swords sliced through the air with vicious precision. She was quick. But so was Nightwing. They stalked circles around each other. When the moon was no longer to the assassin’s back the shadow that consumed her face cleared, and for the first time Dick got a proper look at who he was fighting.

 

She wore a mask under her hood that covered the bottom half of her face. Between the mask and the hood Dick caught a glimpse of a pair of deep brown eyes. As soon as he saw them, they were gone, shrouded in darkness again-- but the sight was still enough to send a strange wave of recognition rushing through him. Against his better judgement, he paused.

 

A rookie mistake.

 

Almost in slow motion, the assassin came at him with a sudden spinning kick. Her foot landed right in the center of his chest. The air knocked out of him, he tumbled backwards and off the roof into the alley below.

 

This time instead of running ahead again the assassin jumped after him. Maybe she’d changed her mind about prioritizing her targets. Maybe she was just pissed at him. Maybe she’d realized if she didn’t leave him dead he’d just catch up and stop her again. Dick was stubborn like that. He rolled out of the way just fast enough to avoid being decapitated by her swords that she’d brought down at him hard like she was a blacksmith working at the forge and the her sword was the hammer.

 

Dick flipped up. He forced her backwards with a flurry of escrima blows until they were out of the alley and between the rows of empty storage units. The doors of which were open and gaping at them like the maws of several slumbering beasts. She blocked most of his hits. She answered with blows of her own.

 

The assassin lashed out with her right sword and Dick blocked. She lashed out with the left and Dick dodged, but in the same movement she brought her right sword down again. This time she caught him across the shoulder, slicing right through his costume and into his skin. Dick cursed.

 

The red of his blood dripped from the edge of her blade. It spattered in drops on the asphalt like a leaky faucet dripping water into the sink.

 

That was cause for concern.

 

He wore this suit for a reason-- triple weave, lined with kevlar, it was supposed to be able to withstand any kind of attack from blades to bullets. The fact that her sword cut through it so easily, with zero resistance-- those weren’t just ordinary swords. And this wasn’t just an ordinary assassin.

 

So Dick lunged forward. He disarmed her right sword, sending it flying through the air with a twisting maneuver of his escrima stick. It clattered on the concrete floor of one of the empty storage units. She tried to lunge after it and he blocked her before she could reach it. He knocked away her other sword. It landed in the corner, buried in the dark shadows cast by the walls of the storage unit they were in.

 

The assassin snarled at him. She grabbed the end of one of his escrima sticks and aimed a kick at his wrist. He was forced to let go of it lest he wanted a broken bone.

 

The assassin knew how to wield the weapon she’d taken from him. Not as well as her swords but skilled nonetheless. It took some back and forth kicks and punches and lots of bruises for Dick to knock that out of her hand, too. The stick flew up into the air and spun three times, landing easily in his open palm.

 

Dick aimed a lighting-fast nerve strike at the assassin's neck, knocking her out in one blow. Dick caught her before she hit the ground, lowering her gently to the floor. He pulled out a length of thin rope. He was panting slightly. There was sweat beading on his forehead. Damn. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a real work out from a one on one fight. 

 

Quickly he set about binding the assassin's wrists together and her arms to her sides. He tied her ankles together as well, just as she began to stir again.

 

The assassin groaned as she came to, shifting so she was sitting up on the concrete. She jerked at the ropes once, twice before going still with a sound like a growl. Dick was glad she was able to recognize when the fight was lost. Sometimes people continued to struggle even after it was long futile, and that was just embarrassing for all of them.

 

Dick kneeled so he was level with her. Her hood had slid back, and this time he could see her severe gaze clearly. And it nearly knocked him on his ass from shock.

 

Seeing the eyes of someone you’re close to in a stranger can easily take you by surprise if you’re not prepared. Seeing the familiar soul of someone you know well in the eyes of someone you don’t know at all, it can lead to a myriad of emotions-- confusion, maybe anger if the circumstances are right. Maybe even an urge to trust that stranger.

 

He shook the notion away, telling himself it had to be a ridiculous coincidence. But… she looked to be the right age, and those eyes-- Dick didn’t know if he wanted to be right or wrong.

 

“So, kid,” Dick said. The assassin continued to glare at him. “Are you working for someone or are you operating alone?”

 

“I serve no one,” She said.

 

Dick sighed. “Alright then… how old are you, kid?”

 

No answer.

 

“What's your name?”

 

No answer. Just a chillingly familiar glare. Dick took a deep breath. This could either pay off or blow up in his face.

 

“Is it Nazdana?” The girl's reaction was answer enough. Dick got a funny feeling in his gut when he thought about what would happen once Tiger showed up.

 

“How did you know that? Tell me!” The assassin-- Nazdana-- yelled, jerking at the ropes again. The defensiveness of her tone had bled away completely, and now she just seemed… scared. She was scared. Although, Dick would be too, if he’d just lost a fight with a masked stranger, woken up tied up and defenseless, only for the stranger to call him by his name.

 

Dick cursed internally. He had a headache. Should he tell her? Or should he wait for Tiger to show up, which would happen in mere minutes anyway. Was it fair to leave her in the dark?

 

“Do you, uhh… do you remember your uncle at all? I don’t know what his real name is, but he goes by Tiger?”

 

Nazdana kept glaring at him distrustfully, remaining silent. But if she was at all like her uncle then a glare could mean basically anything.

 

“He has these birthmarks on his forehead. You know, like a tiger?” Something changed in Nazdana’s expression. Something like hope? Maybe?

 

“I do remember him, yes. I remember when he was taken from us. Forced to become a weapon. Why? Do you know him?”

 

Dick sighed, rubbing his temples tiredly. “Yeah, I-- I know him.”

 

This was a mess. And it would only get messier when Tiger got there. Tiger was the _director_ of Spyral, and Nazdana’s been _killing_ Spyral agents.

 

He knew Tiger was the type for revenge, which could be dangerous when mixed with the fact he never had any chill, either. It was always either zero or a hundred with that guy. And Nazdana seemed to take after her-- supposedly, in theory, most likely, oh who was he kidding, most definitely-- uncle. Neither had any objections to lethal force, it seemed. So Dick could only hope the impending confrontation didn’t result in a fight, for all of their sakes.

 

The heavy sound of boots on concrete rang throughout the empty storage unit, the sound of Tiger announcing his arrival. Dick leapt up and ran towards him.

 

“Patron! Hey!” He said, stopping Tiger from advancing any further with two firm hands on his chest. “I need to talk to you.”

 

Tiger’s face was thunderous. Right, revenge. Never let it be said that Tiger didn’t care about his agents. “Can it wait?”

 

“No, it really can’t.” Dick grabbed Tiger by the arm and dragged him away into the farthest corner from the assassin. He kept an eye on her over his shoulder all the while.

 

“What is the meaning of this, Nightwing?” Tiger demanded. Dick turned to him, voice low.

 

“Okay, so… about the assassin. I don’t know her motive, I didn’t get much info out of her, but she’s working alone so it’s probably personal, and I’m pretty sure that you never wanted to talk about this ever again but--”

 

“Stop rambling and get to the point,” Tiger paused. “Idiot.”

 

“Well…” Dick winced. Better to just rip off the bandaid. “I think the assassin is actually your niece, Nazdana.”

 

Tiger reeled away from him, eyes bulging. Shock and something desperate written on his face. Then he leaned in close, using his height advantage to intimidate in a way that would have made anyone who wasn’t Batman’s kid piss themselves.

 

“Nightwing, if you are lying to me I will kill you where you stand!” He growled, voice raw and thick with emotion.

 

“I’m positive it’s her, I promise! And I know the circumstances are shitty, but… I think this should be as happy a reunion as possible, because she’s your _family_ , and you both deserve another chance at being family,” Dick said.

 

He looked imploringly up at Tiger, but Tiger wasn’t looking at him. He was looking over Dick’s shoulder at Nazdana, still tied up and sitting angrily on the floor. They made eye contact across the room, and Dick could see something inside Tiger shatter.

 

Tiger walked over to her, crouching in front her. He stared. She stared back.

 

_They had the same eyes._

 

Dick stayed back, watching the exchange from a respectful distance.

 

Nazdana was the first to speak. “You didn’t have a beard, last I saw you.”

 

The corner of Tiger’s mouth twitched in the ghost of a smile. His eyes were misty, but no one pointed it out.

 

“And you weren’t nearly this tall.”

 

Then Tiger’s face became harsh. It had to be if he wanted to mask the pain churning beneath. “Why are you killing Spyral agents?”

 

And then Nazdana was cold and defensive again, just like she was with Dick. Her walls shot back up. “What do you care?”

 

“Because I’m the _director_ of Spyral, and those were _my_ agents. Now tell me.”

 

Nazdana glared down at the floor between them, eyes glittering with barely contained rage. “Vengeance. An eye for an eye.”

 

Tiger’s brow furrowed in confusion. Tendrils of dread unfurled in his gut. “Explain.”

 

“Spyral killed my mother.” Nazdana spat.

 

Fuck. Tiger’s sister.

 

Tiger inhaled sharply, trying to process what he’d just heard in only seconds. There wasn’t enough time in the world to process something like that. But that didn’t stop Tiger from trying to power through anyway. Sometimes powering through was all that could be done.

 

“How did it happen?”

 

Nazdana chewed on her bottom lip, still looking at the floor. “ Spyral was operating in Kandahar. The situation turned violent. She was caught in the crossfire. Lots of civilians were. We were at the bazaar. My memory of that day is mostly a terrible blur… but there are some things I remember vividly. The sound of the gunfire. The weight of her corpse as she collapsed on top of me, bleeding rivers from the bullet in her heart. The face of the man who’d shot her-- or more fittingly, his lack of a face. It was a _Spyral agent’s_ gun that killed her.”

 

Tiger dragged a tired hand down his face. “When was this?”

 

“Six years ago.”

 

“I wasn't at Spyral then, I didn’t know,” In an instant, Tiger’s eyes filled with rage. “What was even your plan, pick off agents until none remained, assuming one of them had to be Laila’s killer? That is more than an eye for an eye. That’s _massacre_. Do you think your mother would be proud of this, child? You know what she believed in!” Tiger said, voice raising in volume and intensity with every word. Dick crossed the room then, hovering over them and ready to intervene if he needed to.

 

It was then that Nazdana finally looked up from the floor, glaring harshly at Tiger. “What does it matter what she believed! She’s fucking _dead_!” She yelled, voice breaking with angry tears.

 

“Nazdana!” Tiger snarled. Dick put a hand on his shoulder, to soothe as much as it was to hold him back. Nazdana flinched. She looked down again.

 

“Can you untie me, now?” She whispered after a second of tense silence. Tiger looked at her for a moment longer, wary, before he relented and released her from the ropes. When she was free she stood, as did Tiger and Dick.

 

Nazdana only came up to just past Tiger’s shoulder. But then, Dick didn’t come up much farther either, so he probably shouldn’t talk.

 

She reached up, pulling her mask down so it no longer covered her mouth and pushed her hood back.

 

With her whole face visible, the family resemblance was undeniable. They had the same strong brow and sharp cheekbones.

 

The same eyes. Dick wondered if Laila had shared the same eyes, too. If she’d shared the same soul. If the three of them all came from the same star.

 

In an instant Nazdana was rushing forward and throwing her arms around Tiger’s middle. Tiger pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. He was failing to hide the fact that he was fighting back tears.

 

Dick had to look away. It felt like he was intruding all of a sudden.

 

Eventually Nazdana was the one to pull away, wiping her eyes.

 

“So,” She said, voice thick. “My revenge will not be had.”

 

“No,” Tiger said. That was when Dick stepped forward.

 

“Maybe that’s for the best, though.” He said. “I’ve seen people lose themselves to their obsession with vengeance. It can ruin you. You have your whole life to heal. Don’t waste it feeling nothing but rage and grief.”

 

Nazdana answered with a sigh. “Perhaps. You’re called Night-- Night-Something, right?”

 

Dick smiled. “Nightwing. But your uncle mostly calls me idiot.”

 

Nazdana raised an eyebrow at them, and Tiger smirked. “That’s not true,” He said. “I also call him a fool and a simpleton. All accurate.”

 

“Hey now,” Dick said through a smile. The banter was familiar, it was easy. When in doubt in a gloomy situation, just crack a joke. Sometimes it actually works.

 

Ignoring him, Tiger continued speaking to Nazdana. “What will you do now?”

 

“I’ll figure it out.” She said with a shrug. Dick handed her her swords and she sheathed them swiftly. Nazdana gave Tiger one last pat on the shoulder before walking around him to the open door of the storage unit. “Goodbye, aka. We’ll see each other again soon, in shaa Allah.”

 

Then she was out the door and gone, disappeared into the shadows. Tiger looked like his whole world left with her. Dick placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. Tiger reached up and put his hand on Dick’s and grabbed it tightly. He held on for only a few seconds before he let go, forcing his hands to hang empty at his sides.

 

“Are you alright?” Dick asked softly. Tiger didn’t give him a direct answer.

 

“She’s so grown…” was all he said instead. Dick nodded, gazing out into the night in which Nazdana had vanished.

 

“How old is she, now?” Dick asked.

 

Tiger closed his eyes, something he usually did when he was either fighting back a migraine (usually with Dick as the cause) or an emotional breakdown. “It’s been twelve years since I left… so she would be eighteen now. _Eighteen_. A full adult.”

 

Left? Nazdana said Tiger was taken. By who, though, and why, Dick didn’t know. The man was still a mystery, always had been and probably always would be. Dick gave him a sympathetic look. “You know I’m always here if you want to talk, right?”

 

“I _don’t_ want to talk.” Tiger scowled.

 

“Well you might someday.” Dick said. “And when that day comes I’ll be ready to listen.”

 

Tiger shook his hand off, stalking out the door and ignoring Dick’s noises of protest.

 

“You really are an idiot.”

 

Dick stood there in the middle of the empty space, jaw hanging open and chest aching. He shouldn’t have been surprised Tiger would rather storm off than talk to Dick right then, but he’d thought maybe, after what had just happened-- and that he and Tiger were-- well. Dick couldn’t stop himself from being disappointed.

  
  


Dick was essentially tuned out and running on autopilot all the rest of his patrol, mind wandering all night up until he made his way back into his apartment with nothing but some fresh bruises. He was worried about Nazdana. She was so young, and she was out there somewhere, in the night, alone. She didn’t seem to have a plan. And she’d run off instead of staying with Tiger like Dick thought she might. She said to her uncle they would meet again soon, but how certain could that even be? He wanted to help her, but if she took too much after her uncle she probably would have rejected any aid offered. Dick couldn’t even be sure she was still in Blüdhaven, or if she’d moved on already.

 

He also had to wonder where she’d gotten her training. From Dick’s understanding, the streets of Kandahar where she and Tiger grew up wasn’t the place to master sword fighting.

 

There were a few potential answers to that question that came to mind right off the bat. Dick wasn’t sure he really liked any of them.

 

He was worried about Tiger, too, Dick mused as he got changed out of his costume and into his pajamas. Tiger had probably expected Nazdana to stay with him as well, but as young as she was, Tiger was still right in that she was an adult. She could make her own decisions. But what a shock it must be to see someone who existed in your memory for years as a young child, suddenly all grown up.

 

Unable to sleep, Dick grabbed some ice packs from the freezer and flopped down onto the couch. He pressed the ice packs to the bruises littering his body with a sigh. He turned on the tv, going onto Netflix and looking for something new to watch. What would happen to Nazdana now that she no longer had a quest? Hopefully, she would be alright. Hopefully she would be able to create some peace in her life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nazdana makes a comeback. Loblaws is really big.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a little shorter than i wanted but!! Yeehaw.

It was four months later that Nazdana was heard from again. Dick was out on his nightly patrol, when he realized he was being followed. A flicker in the shadows trailing behind him, and he felt the presence of eyes glued to his back. He switched his path, heading for the boardwalk instead of his home. He complicated his route, scaling higher buildings and leaping across wider chasms in an effort to shake off whoever was tailing him.

 

No dice. Every time he thought he’d lost them, the figure reappeared in the distance, always behind him. Whoever it was couldn't exactly keep up with Dick’s acrobatic stunts, but they weren’t losing sight of him either. They were being smart about it. Dick tensed.

 

No matter the hour, the Blüdhaven boardwalk was never empty. There were always crowds, always music playing and always brightly coloured lights dancing up and down the bay. It was always loud. Dick landed on the roof of one of the boardwalk’s taller buildings, using the shadows cast from the lights below to keep him hidden from the people milling about. He waited, tapping his foot faux-impatiently for the person following him to show up.

 

They landed on the rooftop behind him. Dick turned around, bracing himself for a fight, only to take a step back and let down his guard when he saw who it actually was.

 

“Nazdana,” said Dick, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. “Hey. You’re not here to attack me, are you?”

 

Nazdana was dressed in her full assassin’s garb, hood and mask included. Her swords were sheathed at her sides, and slung over her shoulder was a weathered green duffel bag.

 

“Hello, Nightwing,” She greeted him. “No, I’m not here for a fight. I, uh… actually…” Nazdana trailed off, shifting awkwardly in place. She scuffed the toe of her boot against the roof.

 

“It’s a long story, but I need your help.”

 

Dick looked at her curiously. “My help with what?”

 

Nazdana scratched at the back of her neck. “Well, most urgently, I need a place to stay.”

 

“Ah,” Dick blinked, rapidly analyzing the situation in his head. She was obviously asking indirectly if she could stay at his place. He didn’t have a spare bedroom, but his couch was actually really nice, no matter what people said. It could extend into a sofa bed. And a sofa bed was better than nothing.

 

Letting her stay with him would undoubtedly mean revealing to her his secret identity. But she didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives as far as Dick could tell. And she was Tiger’s family, Tiger who was his good friend and who he trusted, who trusted him. He felt an obligation to help her. Nazdana seemed to trust him too, or she wouldn’t have asked for his help in the first place. She hadn’t really done anything to earn his _distrust_ , aside from the assassin thing, but that was honestly a minor infraction when you looked at the big picture. So it was only fair to return the faith. In the end, the decision was easy to make.

 

“You can crash at my place, if you want.” He said.

 

Nazdana’s shoulders slumped in relief.

 

“Was there anything else you needed?” Dick asked.

 

Nazdana nodded, “I want you to teach me how to be a hero.”

 

Dick blinked again. He wasn’t sure how to approach that, so he figured, one thing at a time. “Uh, you know what, we can talk about that once we get to my apartment.” He said. “Come on.”

 

He fired his grapnel and Nazdana did the same with a similar device. They took off towards Dick’s apartment together, with Dick leading the way. The trip took almost twenty minutes by rooftop, and by the time they landed on his fire escape Nazdana was out of breath.

 

“You okay?” Dick asked, chuckling a little bit.

 

“Yeah,” Nazdana gasped. “But I’ve been following you for most of the night, and you’re really not an easy person to tail, you know?”

 

Dick laughed, disabling the alarms and opening the window so they could climb inside.

 

Out of the corner of his eye Dick saw Nazdana looking around the apartment. Not exactly with a judging eye, but more like she was analyzing it, taking in all the details at face value. Looking for exits, for potential dangers.

 

The apartment wasn’t exactly in great shape— it never was— but there was no use for Dick to be embarrassed about it There were empty dishes scattered around the kitchen and filling the sink. Empty Mr. noodles cups sat at the edge of the counter. The dining table was covered in papers and case notes Dick had printed out. Cups and candy wrappers dominated the counters.

 

The island that separated the kitchen from the dining room wasn’t any clearer. Neither was the coffee table. Well, at least the floor here wasn’t covered in dirty laundry like his bedroom was. Just the occasional socks.

 

“Nice place,” Nazdana said simply. Dick snorted.

 

“You know, when your uncle first saw it he was appalled by the mess,” He said, pushing the coffee table further into the center of the room. He fiddled with the couch until the mattress folded out. “He’s kind of a neat freak. It’s funny.”

 

Nazdana just shrugged, so Dick kept talking, “You can put your bag down over here. Sorry it’s not much, but the sofa bed’s all yours. I’ll pull some sheets out for you, too.”

 

Nazdana set her duffel bag down on the sofa bed, pulling down her hood and mask as well. She sat heavily on the cushion with a distant look on her face. Dick sat next to her, leaning forward slightly into his ‘let’s have a talk about feelings’ pose.

 

“So… what was that, about me teaching you how to be a hero?” He said in his ‘let’s have a talk about feelings’ voice.

 

“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” Nazdana said, still looking off in the distance.

 

“But, why?” Dick asked. “I gotta be honest, Nazdana— you’re already a very skilled fighter. All you really need is more experience. I’m not sure what there is for me to teach you.”

 

Nazdana shook her head. “I don’t mean teaching me to fight,” She said. “There’s more to being a hero than just fighting, isn’t there? It’s about… being _good_ ." She paused. "The other day, I went after a man who’d been abusing his partner. I attacked him, gave him what he deserved, he won’t lay a finger on his partner again, but… I almost killed him. I _wanted_ to kill him, and it would have been so easy to. But I didn’t. Because I’ve been thinking a lot, about what my uncle said. About what my mother believed in. I’ve decided I want to become something she would be proud of. Something good. A hero. And I’ve been hearing stories about you, stories about how good _you_ are. So I want you to teach me.”

 

At first Dick’s impulse was to say that he didn’t know how to _teach_ that, but then, unbidden, he thought of Damian.

 

He thought about how far Damian had come, when originally he didn’t even care about being better. Dick didn’t know exactly what his own part in that journey had been. Most days he was sure Damian never really _needed_ him for that. And he wasn’t sure Nazdana _needed_ him for this, either, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do his best to help.

 

 _‘We were the best, Richard.’_ Damian’s voice rang in his head.

 

“Oh. Yeah, okay.” Dick said. “Yeah, I think I can do that. You’re already doing well. Wanting to is the first step to getting better.”

 

Nazdana finally looked him in the eye, a hopeful smile on her face, and Dick knew he’d made the right decision.

 

“So, if you don’t mind me asking,” Dick said, “What exactly have you been up to these last few months?”

 

Nazdana shrugged, looking away again. “I, uh… took a shot at living a normal life. Here, in Blüdhaven. It worked out well, until it didn’t, and now I’m here. I don’t think a normal life will ever be for me.”

 

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Dick smiled. “Gonna go get those sheets for you. I’ll be right back.”

 

He stood from the sofa bed, going to his room to grab some spare sheets out of the closet. When he came back, Nazdana was halfway through the process of unpacking her duffel bag. She sat there, gazing unblinkingly down at a fairly new-looking Hudson university hoodie. The fabric was deep blue and looked soft where she was absentmindedly rubbing the material between her fingers.

 

“You okay?” Dick asked softly as he set the pile of folded sheets down next to her. Nazdana startled, snapping out of her reverie. She cleared her throat awkwardly, stuffing the hoodie back into her bag.

 

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

 

Dick didn’t believe her, but that was fine. The hoodie obviously wasn’t hers. He wasn’t gonna push it. Nazdana grabbed a pair of pajamas from her bag and went into the bathroom. Dick went about making the bed. Contrary to popular belief, Dick did in fact know how to do simple household chores, including laundry.  As if Alfred would have ever let him move out before teaching him basic homesteading skills. He just didn’t have time to do all of them.

 

He’d taken off his mask by the time Nazdana returned from the bathroom. She watched him curiously as he fluffed the pillows, eyes glued to his now bare face.

 

“Yeah, I figured if we were gonna be roommates there’s no point trying to hide my secret identity,” Dick said, answering her unspoken question.

 

“Shouldn’t you be more careful with that?”

 

“I _am_ being careful. I trust you,” He said. “Dick Grayson, at your service.”

 

“Nazdana Malikzai,” She said, a glint in her eyes like she was playing along with a joke.

 

“Your last name is Malikzai?” Dick blinked at her, and Nazdana shot him a puzzled look.

 

“Yes, I thought you would already know that?” She said. “It’s my uncle’s last name too.”

 

Dick shook his head with a small laugh, as amused as he was resigned. “Just when I think I start to figure the guy out, I’m reminded again that I really don’t know him at all.”

  
  


It was late, and after that exchange Nazdana went to bed, and Dick retreated into his own room to do the same with a quick ‘let me know if you need anything’. He changed out of his suit quickly, leaving it in a heap on the floor amidst his carpet of dirty laundry, then collapsed onto his covers without another thought. He was exhausted, and that night he fell asleep easier than he had in weeks.

  
  


Come morning, Dick shuffled blearily into the kitchen to see Nazdana already seated in there, eating cereal lethargically. She was wearing the Hudson U hoodie and a worn pair of jeans. The countertops had been cleared of clutter as much as possible, and now everything was in neat piles. The garbage was in the garbage. The table had been wiped clean. The sofa bed was tidy and made, and the living room as a whole was spotless.

 

“G’morning.” Nazdana grunted, not looking up from her cereal.

 

“You didn’t have to clean,” Said Dick, feeling a little bad.

 

“I live here too, now.” Nazdana fired back. “I have a right to clean if I want to.”

 

Dick opened the cupboard, about to grab the froot loops when he realized something. “Right!” He said, smacking his forehead. “I should let Tiger know you’re here— is that okay?”

 

Nazdana shrugged. “Do what you want.”

 

Dick pulled his phone out of his pocket and fired a quick string of texts over to Tiger.

  


**Hey Tig! So long story short Nazdana’s crashign at my place for a bit <**

***crashing <**

**She’s doing well, healthy, no injuries that I can tell <**

**Call me when you get the chance <**

**(＾▽＾)** **<**

  


He put his phone away and got his cereal. He took the seat at the kitchen table across from Nazdana. Not having to clear a minuscule space on the table to put his bowl was a little weird. Maybe Dick should have been a little bit embarrassed about the state he lived in after all.

 

“So, I have crossfit classes to teach in a couple hours, and those go well into the afternoon,” Dick said. Nazdana looked up. “Studio’s right downstairs. You’re welcome to occupy yourself with whatever, just don’t set the apartment of fire.” Dick took another bite of cereal before continuing. “We’ll have to go grocery shopping tonight— I haven’t got enough food to feed two people here.”

 

Nazdana snorted. “Damn right you don’t.” She said. “Your lifestyle must be pretty active as a vigilante, right, so how the hell do you manage that on a diet of unhealthy cereal and avocados? Seriously, the contents of your kitchen are really sad.” Earlier that morning she’d dug through his entire kitchen looking for something edible before she settled on cereal. It was either that or avocado, onion and nutella on stale toast. Seriously, why did he have so many avocados?

 

Dick pouted, “Well what do you expect me to do? Healthy cereal tastes bad.”

 

Nazdana huffed out a laugh. She got up from the table, rinsing out her bowl and leaving it in the sink.

  
  


“Wow.” Was Nazdana’s first reaction upon entering the Loblaws. “This place is _huge_.”

 

Dick smiled as he pulled a shopping cart out of the line. It resisted a little, and Nazdana chuckled at him while he struggled with it. “I’m gonna be honest,” he said when the cart came free and he wheeled it forward. “I usually get my groceries at the dollar store. But we need vegetables, so, here we are.”

 

Nazdana was still gazing around the supermarket in awe while they set off towards the fruit stands. Dick raised an eyebrow at her.

 

“Naz, have you ever, uh, been in a supermarket before?”

 

Nazdana’s eyes snapped back to him with a strange, pinched expression. “What did you just call me?”

 

Dick blinked. “Uh, Naz. You know, like a nickname. Short for Nazdana. That’s okay, right?”

 

“It’s fine.” Nazdana poked idly at a stack of bell peppers. “I was just surprised. My mother used to call me Naz. Nobody’s called me that in a long time.”

 

“Well, get used to it, because I´m calling you Naz from now on. Also, you never answered my question.”

 

“What question?”

 

“Have you ever been in a supermarket before?”

 

“Uh, no. We got our food at the Kandahar central bazaar.” Nazdana looked around at the high ceilings some more “It was an outdoor market.”

 

Dick grinned. “Well then we need to make sure you get the full experience!” He pulled out his phone that had a shopping list on it. “I’m going to send you off to fetch things off the list. I’m going to keep moving with the cart so once you get the thing you’ll have to check every aisle to see where I went. At some point you’ll choose a treat to try and sneak into the cart without me noticing to trick me into buying it. I’m going to smack literally everything to test the freshness and embarrass you, and then at the checkout you’re going to ask me if we can get chips or a candy bar and I’ll say no. Got all that?”

 

Nazdana nodded, face set and serious.

 

“Great! First thing on the list— carrots! Go get some carrots.”

 

Nazdana dashed off towards the vegetables, and Dick whistled as he pushed the cart forward. Time to smack some cantaloupes.

 

It was while he and Nazdana were hunting down the halal hot dogs that Dick’s phone started ringing in his back pocket. On the screen was displayed Tiger’s contact name and picture— his name was just _Tony_ with a kissy face emoji, that Tiger hated with a passion, and his contact picture, since Dick had never been able to get Tiger to take any selfies with him and any sneaky pictures he’d ever taken of the spy ended up mysteriously deleted, was a picture of Tigger, the winnie the pooh character, with a grumpy frown edited on.

 

“Hello,” Dick answered the phone. Nazdana wandered further down the frozen foods aisle.

 

_“Is that supposed to be a face?”_

 

One thing that Dick had noticed over the two years he’d known Tiger was that the man literally did not know how to have a conversation over the phone. He never said bye or hello, never any kind of greeting at all, actually. He just… jumped right to it. Never one to beat around the bush, Tiger was.

 

“What?”

 

_“In your texts, the little cluster of symbols, is that supposed to be a face?”_

 

Dick paused, thinking back to the texts he’d sent tiger. Then he laughed. “Yeah, he's a handsome little man.”

 

 _“Allahu Akbar…”_ Dick heard Tiger sigh on the other end of the line. _“So what is this, about Nazdana staying with you?”_

 

Dick nodded even though he knew Tiger couldn’t see him. “Yeah. I don’t actually have the whole story, but I think something happened and she didn’t have anywhere else to go so she came to me. I don’t know why, but I wasn’t about to turn her away, either. She also asked me to train her, and I agreed.”

 

There was a beat of silence, and if Dick didn’t know better he’d think Tiger had abandoned the phone. _“Train her in what?”_

 

“Uh, vigilantism, I guess.” Dick heard Tiger grunt. “Do you wanna talk to her?”

 

 _“No, that is not necessary. Take care of my niece, Grayson.”_ Tiger said gruffly, and then there was the beep of him hanging up the phone. Dick looked at his phone for a moment, scoffed, and pushed the cart forward. That was... kind of weird. 

 

“Was that my uncle?” Asked Nazdana. She dropped a box of frozen halal hot dogs in the cart. “What did he say?”

 

Dick stared into the cart for a minute, not sure what to say. Truth be told Tiger hadn’t really said much at all. Dick had gotten pretty good at reading Tiger’s mood over the years, but it was harder to do over the phone. That said…

 

“He’s glad you’re safe and he hopes you stay that way.”

 

Nazdana nodded, humming.

  
  


They situated themselves in the shortest checkout line. Dick flipped through the rack of gossip magazines while the line of customers inched forward. Then a space cleared on the belt and Dick put down a divider and started unloading their groceries from the cart. Milk, eggs, cantaloupe, apples, lettuce, carrots, beef broth, broccoli, bread, bagels, orange juice, hot dogs, mustard, chocolate pudding, yogurt-- wait.

 

Dick looked at the package of no name brand chocolate pudding in his hand, trying to remember when he put this in the cart. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Nazdana giving him a smug look, and Dick realized what had happened. He let out a bark of laughter. “You rascal!”

 

“You said to!” Nazdana defended herself. Dick shook his head with another laugh.

 

“Yeah, I did. Well, I feel pretty tricked, so onto the belt they go.”

 

The cashier checked their items, looking bored. Nazdana reached over and held up a mars bar.

 

“Candy bar?”

 

Dick smiled. “No.”

 

Nazdana put the mars bar back protestless, with a smile of her own. Then the cashier was done checking all their food and it took everything Dick had in him to keep his eyes from bugging out of his head at the price.

 

Okay, fine. That’s fine. He just wasn’t used to buying groceries responsibly. It was up to him to keep Tiger’s niece healthy. This was okay. The month’s budget would be a little tight, but that was okay. But if he had another surprise bill anytime within the next few weeks then he was totally fucked. His hands shook the tiniest amount as he handed the cashier his debit card.

 

This wouldn’t be a problem if he could swallow his pride and let Bruce pay his living expenses like the man constantly offered, whispered an annoying little voice in the back of his head. Dick ignored it. Like he always ignored it.

 

Groceries paid for, Dick and Nazdana carried the bags out to Dick’s Prius and loaded them into the trunk.

 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Dick said at a red light on the drive back to his apartment. He turned down the radio. “You’re going to need a code name for when you’re out on the field.”

 

Nazdana seemed to consider this for a moment, looking pensively down at the dashboard. “Do I have to choose right now?”

 

“No,” Dick said. “But you’ll have to before you can go out. Secret identities and all that.”

 

Nazdana nodded. The light turned green, and Dick turned his eyes back to the road.

  
  



End file.
